" Oh shit what the hell was that!?" Razor looked up from his usual bed of newspapers and rags and wiped something white and wet off his forehead. "Oh great," he murmured, " A bird shit on my forehead again."
When he got up he saw the sun rising between the two buildings that formed his alley. He recently ran away from his eleventh orphanage because the people in charge kept punishing him for his bad behavior. The only thing he usually did was mouth off...and continuously get in fights. That was it, he never did anything REALLY bad. Plus he didn't need the support of the orphanage anyways food wise. He happened to be, and was very proud to be, an excellent scrounger for food. He also stole, but only when he needed to.
He was pretty popular on the streets, but only with kids, adults simply loathed him. He wasn't exactly the perfect kid. He was good looking, brown hair with gold tips, which, always looked spiked even without any kind of gel. He had grayish green eyes, which, many found interesting, and perfect teeth, though he rarely brushed, they were straight and white. But his attitude was less than impressive, he liked himself, he saw nothing wrong with the way he acted but other people thought he was too vulgar, too punk, too arrogant, too much of a tough little asshole who didn't know when to keep his mouth shut. He saw none of these faults, however, he just thought he voiced his opinions and if you like them fine, if you don't, who gives a damn what you think?
So he found it rather odd when an old man who appeared to be in some sort of bath robes ran over to him and told him he must leave with him at once. " What are you talking about? I don't want to go anywhere with you, you sick bastard!" He though the old man would drop it but he was relentless. "Come on let me explain to you why you need to come with me to England," he said in a firm tone. " To England! There is no way I am going to England I am afraid you are just going to have to go there without me!"
" I will not since I only came here specifically so you could come back with me,"
" But why?" Razor asked the curiosity of his getting the better of him. "Razor you have been accepted to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy," He handed Razor a letter to confirm this statement and it also listed his school supplies.
"This is crazy there is no way this can be true!"
"Well it is and you better come back with me before the portkey leaves"
" The what?"
" A muggle object bewitched to carry wizards from point A to point B,"
" What's a muggle?"
"A non-magical person"
"Where is it?"
"It's this old boot right here"
" I see, so I guess I will go with you since I got nothing better to do on the streets, my life was already going downhill."
"Don't say that Razor you are only eleven,"
" Eleven years wasted well anyways are we going to go yet?"
" Just a minute," he was checking his watch. "3...2...1...NOW," Razor felt as if his navel was being yanked into this shoe then yanked out as he fell right in front of a shabby old building.
"This is where you are going to stay until school starts," said the old man. " Aah nothing better than the Leaky Cauldron!"
When he got up he saw the sun rising between the two buildings that formed his alley. He recently ran away from his eleventh orphanage because the people in charge kept punishing him for his bad behavior. The only thing he usually did was mouth off...and continuously get in fights. That was it, he never did anything REALLY bad. Plus he didn't need the support of the orphanage anyways food wise. He happened to be, and was very proud to be, an excellent scrounger for food. He also stole, but only when he needed to.
He was pretty popular on the streets, but only with kids, adults simply loathed him. He wasn't exactly the perfect kid. He was good looking, brown hair with gold tips, which, always looked spiked even without any kind of gel. He had grayish green eyes, which, many found interesting, and perfect teeth, though he rarely brushed, they were straight and white. But his attitude was less than impressive, he liked himself, he saw nothing wrong with the way he acted but other people thought he was too vulgar, too punk, too arrogant, too much of a tough little asshole who didn't know when to keep his mouth shut. He saw none of these faults, however, he just thought he voiced his opinions and if you like them fine, if you don't, who gives a damn what you think?
So he found it rather odd when an old man who appeared to be in some sort of bath robes ran over to him and told him he must leave with him at once. " What are you talking about? I don't want to go anywhere with you, you sick bastard!" He though the old man would drop it but he was relentless. "Come on let me explain to you why you need to come with me to England," he said in a firm tone. " To England! There is no way I am going to England I am afraid you are just going to have to go there without me!"
" I will not since I only came here specifically so you could come back with me,"
" But why?" Razor asked the curiosity of his getting the better of him. "Razor you have been accepted to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy," He handed Razor a letter to confirm this statement and it also listed his school supplies.
"This is crazy there is no way this can be true!"
"Well it is and you better come back with me before the portkey leaves"
" The what?"
" A muggle object bewitched to carry wizards from point A to point B,"
" What's a muggle?"
"A non-magical person"
"Where is it?"
"It's this old boot right here"
" I see, so I guess I will go with you since I got nothing better to do on the streets, my life was already going downhill."
"Don't say that Razor you are only eleven,"
" Eleven years wasted well anyways are we going to go yet?"
" Just a minute," he was checking his watch. "3...2...1...NOW," Razor felt as if his navel was being yanked into this shoe then yanked out as he fell right in front of a shabby old building.
"This is where you are going to stay until school starts," said the old man. " Aah nothing better than the Leaky Cauldron!"